Without All the Mushy Bits
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Merlin and Arthur were like a married couple... without all the mushy bits.


**Okay, I told myself I wasn't going to write for this fandom. I said the show's writers and my fellow fanfic writers are already doing/ already did an incredible job, but I need to keep reminding myself I never do as I am told.**

**So, yeah, I wrote this. It's my first time writing in the Merlin Fandom (as I've stated above), I just finished the series two days ago, and I am not sure what I am doing. So, let me know if anyone is OOC or what you thought in general, thanks for reading, and I do not own anybody recognizable.**

**See you!**

* * *

Blood continued to drip from Merlin's head, falling into the already impressive puddle staining the forest floor. Arthur glanced up at the ridge they had fallen off of, wincing when the action pulled on his bruised throat. It wasn't everyday he found himself strangled into unconsciousness. Oddly enough, he was fairly certain he'd never actually been strangled. There really was a first time for everything; he just hoped it was his last, too.

Arthur looked back down at Merlin, once again gently tapping his face, trying to wake him again. He would have attempted to speak, but the last time he tried left him in pain and the lingering taste of blood in the back of his throat. It was most likely swollen and Arthur, no doubt, would need to wait for the swelling to go down to be able to speak again.

He gave up on his tapping, sitting back on his heels, running a hand through his hair. He risked a second glance up at the ridge. It wasn't very high, ten feet at most, but he wasn't going to be able to make the climb; not with his bum arm, and even if he _could_ make the climb, he wouldn't risk it. Not if it meant leaving Merlin behind; he refused to leave his manservant, his friend behind. That _thing_ could still be lurking around, and the younger man would be nothing more than _thing_ fodder in his condition.

Arthur had to remind himself that he and Merlin had not been travelling alone. Gwaine was somewhere up there, and he could have already taken care of the _thing, _but it had been far too quiet, for far too long. If Gwaine had, in fact, killed the _thing_ then where the hell was he, why hadn't he helped them yet, and if he hadn't killed the _thing then _why wasn't he down here with the king and his manservant? The _thing_ hadn't been concerned with killing them; it just wanted them out of the way. Maybe it had a thing for verbose men with far too much hair.

Worriedly, Arthur looked back down at his unconscious friend. He remembered, very clearly, the sound Merlin's head made when it connected with that rock. What he had been thinking, jumping in front of that _thing_'s attack, blocking the king, was beyond Arthur's comprehension. That is, if Merlin had been thinking at all. He could be a stupid, good for nothing, too damn loyal for his own good, death wish seeking manservant when he wanted to be, saving Arthur's life without a second thought to his own. It was all a part of the mystery that made Merlin, _Merlin._

_Idiot,_ Arthur thought with very little malice, more worry settling in his stomach. What happened if Merlin never woke up? Arthur had seen men with lesser wounds perish in their sleep. Would his friend be next?

No, he mustn't think like that. Merlin was going to wake up. He had to wake up. Arthur would order him to wake up if he had to, pain be damned. He couldn't lose Merlin, he wouldn't lose him. He had already lost too many people that he cared for, and he was certain one more loss would be his undoing.

It wasn't proper king etiquette, having this deep of a relationship with a mere servant, but Arthur had learned a long time ago that Merlin was more than _just_ a servant. He was his friend, his best friend, and he was going to wake up. For all the jibs and jests Arthur threw his way, Merlin was the bravest man the king had ever met. He was also a fighter, overcoming some of the most impossible things. He _was going to_ wake up.

Above him, Arthur heard movement, and his head snapped up, causing him to wince. He scrambled to his feet, looking around for a weapon, his eyes settling on a thick branch. He snatched it up, ignoring the twinge of pain in his arm, and weighed it in his hands. One good swing should stun whoever, or whatever, was up there, giving him enough time to grab Merlin and…

And what? There wasn't anywhere they could go. Unless he just wanted to keep swinging until that _thing_ or whoever was dead. It was a good a plan as any, and, as much as he didn't exactly want to die, he'd rather he go down swinging. Of course, he was more worried about Merlin. Who would take care of the younger man if Arthur were to die?

Deciding not to dwell on it unless he absolutely _had_ to, tightening his grip on his branch, Arthur readied himself for a fight. He hovered protectively over Merlin, taking a step forward to attack the face that appeared over him, but stopped when he recognized it.

"Sorry I'm late, mates, but I took a detour to kill that ugly bastard," Gwaine commented, sporting a bloody nose and a slowly blackening eye, grinning easily. A grin, that seemed to diminish when he spotted Merlin. "What happened to him?"

Instead of verbally answering, Arthur merely nodded at the crimson stained rock a few feet from Merlin. He then gestured to his manservant, silently demanding that Gwaine help him get the younger man out of there and back to Camelot as quickly as possible. He needed Gaius now.

**Merlin**

_Merlin_, he heard a familiar voice whisper. _Merlin, wake up._ It was reminiscent of his first night in Camelot, but he didn't remember his brain slamming against his skull, leaving him barely able to keep a groan of pain at bay, nor did he remember Kilgharrah sounding a bit like Gwaine.

Merlin wanted nothing more than to keep sleeping, but between the pain and the voice he knew that was nearly impossible, so he forced his eyelids open and immediately slammed them shut when a stream of sunlight assaulted his eyes. He groaned, turning his head away from the sunlight, hissing when a new wave of pain exploded behind his eyes.

"Easy there, mate," Gwaine's voice said soothingly, a hand resting on his chest. "Your head's not _nearly _as hard as you thought. It's going to take a minute to get your bearings."

"It'd be easier if it weren't for that light," Merlin stated dryly and he heard Gwaine swear. The hand left his chest and Merlin was very much aware of some rustling before wherever he was became darker. The young warlock risked opening his eyes again, this time managing to keep them open. His vision blurred for a moment, but slowly his room came back into focus along with Gwaine's smiling, bruised face, sitting in a chair next to his bed.

"You look awful," the knight joked and Merlin threw him a look, attempting to sit up. Another explosion of pain caused his vision to go white for a moment. When he came back to himself, Gwaine had forced him to lie down again and his vision took even longer to focus.

"Perhaps you shouldn't try that again," Gwaine commented sitting back in his chair. "Wouldn't want Gaius to remove my head if you fell off your bed."

"What happened?" Merlin asked curiously, ignoring his friend's normal chatter. "I remember riding with you and Arthur and then that thing attacked…" the young warlock's eyes widened and he tried to sit up again, but Gwaine forced him to stay down a third time. "Where's Arthur? Did that thing hurt him?"

"Other than his ego, a bruised shoulder, and his vocal cords, The Princess is fine." Gwaine leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "In fact, he hasn't exactly left this chair since we got back. Gwen had to force him to leave this morning so he could clean himself up. He was starting to secrete this order…" the knight trailed off, his nose wrinkling slightly. "It reminded me of this troll I met a few years ago in this tavern. I mean, she wasn't really a troll, but the smell…"

"So, he's okay," Merlin pressed on, once again ignoring the excessive amount of words hurtled at him from the chatty knight.

"My God, you two are about as close to being married as you can possibly get without the actual mushy bits," Gwaine grumbled good-naturedly, fighting a grin, but still nodded in reassurance. "That's all he stressed about the past three days. Whether or not you'd…"

"Three days?" He'd lost three days. Merlin wasn't sure he how he felt about that little tid-bit.

"Yeah, but I knew you'd be okay. I didn't stress one bit." Merlin knew the knight was lying, it was written all over his face, but he let it go for now. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, hissing when his fingers brushed against a nasty feeling knot. "What did I hit?"

"A rock," Gwaine answered without hesitation. It was one of the few things Merlin liked about Gwaine; he didn't keep much from him. It was also one of the few things he hated about the long-haired knight. There were just some things that needed to stay in the tavern.

An uncomfortable look suddenly crossed the knight's face and he softly said, "Gaius," he cleared his throat, trying again, "Gaius says you're lucky to be alive. And the fact that you are awake and talking…" Gwaine trailed off, averting his eyes from Merlin, letting them rest on the floor. He promptly stood up, moving towards the door. "I should probably tell Gaius you're awake."

"Hey," Merlin called, causing his friend to stop in the doorway. "I'm alright. Just remember that." Gwaine nodded, offered Merlin a weak smile, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He was barely gone six seconds when the door opened again. "That didn't take…" Merlin trailed off when his eyes settled on Arthur.

The blond flashed him a look that clearly stated '_Are you alright?' _Merlin nodded and Arthur threw him a skeptical look.

"Why bother asking if you're not going to believe my answer," the warlock retorted receiving an eye roll in reply. He also noticed the wave of relief cross Arthur's face. The king crossed the room, sitting on the edge of Gwaine's unoccupied chair.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked after a long silence, taking in the bruises around Arthur's throat and the sling holding his arm into place. The king's response was a '_I wasn't the one who nearly died'_ type of look followed by a '_stop worrying about me, _Mer_lin.'_

It baffled Merlin that Arthur could still draw out the first three letters in his name, even if he couldn't speak. It also was a testament to how much time they spent together, that he could even interpret Arthur's looks at all, even with a slight twinge of pain in his head and the fierce need to go back to sleep.

"Were you worried about me?" Merlin questioned after another pause, barely keeping a smirk at bay when Arthur threw him a '_why would I be worried about you, _Mer_lin.'_ "It's just," the warlock continued, fighting another smirk, "Gwaine said you haven't left my side in three days."

_'Obviously, Gwaine doesn't know what he's talking about,' _Arthur's look responded, and Merlin snorted, wishing he hadn't as a spike of pain made him wince. The king's look morphed into worry and he was halfway out of his chair, intending to check on the younger man, but Merlin waved him off.

"I'm fine," he answered quietly, offering Arthur a weak smile. "But Arthur, your worry is showing." The blond man sneered, sinking back into his chair, his look promising tons of chores when Merlin returned to work. "Let me guess," the younger man started slowly, "you'll make me muck out your stables, walk your dogs, polish your armor…" the king nodded after each suggestion. "Anything else?"

_'I'll make a list,_' Arthur's look replied after a pause.

"At least I won't be bored," Merlin retorted dryly and Arthur threw him a smirk, just as the door opened and Gaius walked inside. As the wizened physician started mothering Merlin within an inch of his life, Arthur stood up to take his leave, but he couldn't help glancing back at Merlin.

For a split second, the younger man caught this look in Arthur's eyes. One that clearly said, '_I'm glad you're okay.'_

With a smile, Merlin responded, "Aren't I always." The king rolled his eyes, snorted, and walked out, leaving the warlock in the care of his guardian. At his retreating back, Merlin called after Arthur, "You, too."

The king stopped for a second, his shoulders tense, but he eventually relaxed, flashed Merlin a '_don't be such a girl, _Mer_lin' _look over his shoulder, and then walked out of Gaius' chambers, closing the door behind him.


End file.
